


I don't think I'll ever be

by sepiapages



Series: scribbles [2]
Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Anxiety, Depression, Dissociation, Hurt/Comfort, NB!Josh, Other, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-16
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-08-15 09:35:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8051266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sepiapages/pseuds/sepiapages
Summary: in your warmth I forget how cold it can beand in your heat I feel how cold it can get





	I don't think I'll ever be

**Author's Note:**

> I seem to write when I need to, not when I want to

They felt heavy and light at the same time. They were too far away. Their chest was filled with cotton, expanding it but they couldn’t breathe. Leadened feet kept them standing there, the sun warming their back. They should have felt happy. 

This wasn’t right. This wasn’t them. They didn’t get this bad. It was probably all a lie. They were faking it, just like they’d feared from the start. They couldn’t say anything, tell anyone; they couldn’t break their trust like that. 

Quiet.  _ Shut up.  _ Stillness.  _ Drowning. _

They were falling. The feeling overwhelmed them, swallowed them up. He came up behind them, and a hand was placed warmly on their shoulder. They flinched. They didn’t mean to. 

“Hey, are you okay?” His eyes were pinched, concerned. No, no, they didn’t mean to worry him. 

“I-” The words stuck in their mouth, the cotton spilling over their tongue and clogging the space until they couldn’t get anything in or out. They stretched their lips into a smile. Maybe that would convince him they were fine.

“Josh? What’s wrong? Do you need to go home?” His hand moved from their shoulder to cradle their face, drawing comforting sandpaper lines over their cheekbones and lips with calloused fingers. 

They must have nodded because the next thing they knew, they were in the car. The scenery flashed by, their stomach beginning to fill with cotton as well. They blinked and the road seemed to have moved. They couldn’t focus and their head began to pulse. 

A hand found its way into theirs. They looked over to see him driving, his arm reaching across the center console toward them. He smiled softly at them. The cotton swelled.

They couldn’t remember parking or walking into the dorm room. They could only concentrate just barely on the feeling of the rough woven fabric of the couch beneath their fingers. They dragged their hands up and down the cushions, desperately trying to feel a connection to the earth beneath them. To feel something, anything at all. The drowning feeling increased and they made a choking noise. Their hands were suddenly clawing at their neck, frantic, and then they were mindlessly pulling their shirt up over their head and throwing it across the room.

“Hey, hey,” his soft voice appeared next to them. His hands cupped their face, thumbs dragging across their cheeks to wipe away tears they hadn’t registered. “Come on, talk to me. You’re safe. What can I do?”

They pulled at the fabric wrapped around their chest, not wanting it on but not wanting it off. The thought of it off seemed to ignite the cotton and they swallowed the smoke. They lied down on the couch, running their bare skin over the fabric in an attempt to be soothed. It felt warm and cool at the same time. 

They were falling again. The cotton seeped into their veins and they couldn't feel the fingernails digging into skin, nor the gentle hands prying them away. When soft lips pressed into their temple, they wanted so desperately to feel the heat spread through them and burn the cotton from their body. 

“I-I can't,” they choked, sobbing. 

“You can't what?” His eyes were big and warm and safe. They willed the feeling to sink into their skin and calm them. 

“Everything,” they said, their voice strained. They squeezed their eyes shut. Their hands almost returned to the painful positions but he held them firmly. Slowly, he slid his arms around them and pulled them to rest against him. 

Perception flickered again and they gasped a lungful of air as their conscious returned. He'd taken off his shirt as well and the skin on skin made the heat wrap around their body. More tears slipped down their cheeks but the cotton was thinner. He rocked them both until the pulsing died down and the cotton turned into a tiny seed in their lungs. They breathed in deeply and leaned into him.

They should have felt happy.


End file.
